03/02/2026
I could write about so many things that make me happy other than my cats.
About the feeling of trapping icy cold skin under layers of thermals and knitwear after a wintery dip in the sea.
Or those first hours the morning after a house party sat around in your pjs, people waking up in dribs and drabs, sipping coffee and apple juice, chatting about nothing and everything, nibbling on pastries.
Perhaps waking up to blue skies and having my morning coffee sat basking on the bench in the front garden, with the doors and windows open, a fresh morning breeze blowing through the house.
Maybe a festival night, surrounded by friends and dressed in something covered in sequins, the sun just setting as you all dance away to the perfect songs until you’re sweaty and your feet ache.
Or about a board game in front of the fire as rain batters the windows and the cats sit in the middle of the board, shuffling all the pieces.
But mainly this post is dedicated to our fluffballs because this week is their 4 year adoptiversary and they are just an endless supply of happy.
Dali, dough balls, shadow, Dali do, void, dumpling, frog face. Giver of extremely rare cuddles, owner of the highest pitched squeak of a meow ever to be heard, and master dribbler.
Miró, monster, mouse, bog-eye, long fingers, snagged tooth McGee. The floppy, upside down, little spoon that enjoys foot rubs and destroying my bedroom door, a champion snorer with the longest toes I have ever seen on a cat and a fire fanatic with unending patience for my nonsense.
You make our home a million times more fun. Thank you for giving me never ending excuses to avoid actually cracking on with work.
And if you made it to the end of this smoosh fest extravaganza well done, normal slightly less nostalgic service will resume tomorrow.